The Last Train

As Teresa’s Dad ages (he will be 93 in Nov.), we are trying to help him in a lot of ways. The last several years he has expressed a desire to go to California and visit with his daughter’s family (Steve & Denise Stiles) and we have tried to make that happen. Last year we tried taking the train and had a pretty good experience, so we made the choice to give that another go.

The AMTRAK train starts in SLC for us, but Dad picks it up in Helper, Utah (most people have no idea where that is, I suspect.) and he rides alone for a couple of hours to SLC.

Since trains are stuck to a track, they often have delays and slow-downs that make arrivals and departures iffy – and this was one of those trips. Our ticket said we would leave SLC at 11:30 pm, but we didn’t get on our way until nearly 1:00 am. Still, since it was dark and we were only going to be sleeping, it wasn’t considered a problem because they can make up time out in the desert.

So, we settled into our chairs (which are much way more comfortable than airline seats) and slept thru the night… or at least that was the plan!

For some reason, the peace of the train was not as ‘peaceful’ as we had experienced on our journey last year. For one thing, it was a supremely SLOW journey. Not just regular train slow, but ‘creeping along just faster than walking’ kind of slow.

(OK, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it felt like that).

When we asked the porter why things were so slow, he paused before replying and then said, “must be lots of tankers on the rail.”

I suppose that might be right, but he looked a little guilty when he said it.

Our other problem was that dad seemed to be very stressed and could not find a way to sit comfortably. He just couldn’t settle, or sleep. And even walking around the car made no difference.

When we finally got to Sacramento, we were two hours late – just exactly the amount of time we were supposed to wait for our next connection (so I guess that was karma playing her little hand in the adventure). And that part of the trip was fast - arriving exactly on time at the Denair/Turlock station where Denise and Steve were waiting.

We all stretched, yawned, and chatted for a while until it was time to go to bed and get some rest – but with all the sitting and resting on the train, sleep did not come easily for any of us.

When we all arose the next morning, dad was a little slow getting ready. As he came out of his room, he made a comment about his left leg hurting and feeling hot. The girls had him pull up his pantleg to see and they were surprised to see ‘angry’ red swelling all over the lower leg. We all discussed what it could be and finally decided to take him to see a doctor.

Here’s a lesson we learned!

Most clinics don’t like to take care of 93 yr. old men!!

They are concerned that they won’t have the ‘tools’ to help.

And they are also probably worried about liability.

While both clinics couldn’t help, they did surmise, by the symptoms they saw, that he probably had a blood-clot in his leg… not a happy diagnosis for an older guy (or younger ones either).

So, we ended up in a really nice Emergency Room with kind and competent doctors and nurses who were very polite and worked diligently to try and find what was wrong.

The first thing that we learned was……… he did not have a blood clot!!

YEA!!!

Upon further review, they “pronounced upon him” cellulitis!

And the cure was strong anti-biotics and rest for the leg.

WOOHOO!!

But that left us with a different problem.

There was this REALLY long train ride in store for the victim.

Quick thinking and use of our cellphones solved the dilemma.

We cancelled the train (mostly refunded) and rented (hired if you are from Britain) a car so we could drive back.

Now, there may be some who will say,

“isn’t riding in a car just as bad as going on the train?”

We wondered the same thing so we asked the doctor what to do and he said if we would stop periodically and let him walk around, he would be fine.

So, we proceeded with our plan.

It worked. There was a lot of driving and we did stop often to let him walk. And we also stopped for the night at our home in West Valley City before going on to Huntington, but there were no further incidents with “the leg.”

So!!

The title of this post is “The Last Train” because it WILL be the last train dad will ride for the rest of his life (which I suspect will be many more years, based on the available data). I’m not too sure Teresa and I will ride again, but we might find a time where it would be an option.

So, the adventure of the Train is complete, and all are home. Dad has recovered and is back to his “puttering” around the home.

And we have a new adventure to share with our posterity, so they know we weren’t just “lay bouts”, wishing to find adventure but sitting at home flushing life away (thinking of the crazy mouse show).

Oh, and let me give a special thanks to Steve and Denise for being great hosts on these little adventures.

There couldn’t be a more accommodating couple, always willing to taxi people around and let them hang in their home. Hopefully we can find another way to ‘transport’ dad so he can visit again. And if not, we have had some wonderful experiences over the past few years.

The kind that will last forever in dad’s mind!!